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Writer's pictureMarcy Judd

Save the Date

You are invited to a worship celebration in honor of Abigail's life:

Saturday December 3rd

at 5 pm


The Journey Hanley Road

(829 N Hanley Road, University City, MO 63130)


Please join us prior to the service for light refreshments & to share Abby stories at 4 pm.


 

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It's been four weeks since Abigail was born and died.


I spent the first few weeks after she was born in "Abbyland." We got photos back from our talented and generous photographer, Amber Sargent, and I honestly can't even estimate how many times I've sat and slowly clicked through them all...just to start over again. And again. And again.


I made a baby book. It covers everything "her" from finding out I was pregnant in February until her burial at the end of October. The only thing keeping me from ordering it is wondering whether or not I will want to include the service.


We got a video just of Abby from our phenomenal videographer, Dana Jacobs. I also can't estimate how many times I've watched that. Mostly because of Theo actually - he asks multiple times a day: "I wanna watch Abby video."


Our children's pastor bought Theo the perfect book - The Moon is Always Round by Jonathan Gibson. It's about a 3 year old boy who is learning all about the moon and how it is always round even when it doesn't look round. At the same time he also learns that he is going to have a baby sister. And then his baby sister is stillborn, full term, and he begins to learn that just like the moon is always round, God is always good. We've been reading it a lot - always at Theo's request.


I made Abigail's baby announcements and sent them out. We've decided not to share pictures of Abby's face digitally - unfortunately several women from my support group have had pictures of their babies stolen and used in both pro-choice and pro-life campaigns. I need to feel safe and I feel a lot more safe not having digital copies of her floating around out there. She's not a cause - she's our baby girl. We aren't ashamed to show off our girl though. We'll have pictures of her and we'll show her video at the service. (Don't worry, those of you with kiddos, the video is PG and her wound is covered)


I put together a little shrine of the things that she touched or that were made for her and then slowly, slowly I've been putting it all away into her beautiful memory box. I've ordered a few keepsakes from Etsy shops. I organized all her dozens of ultrasound photos into a photo album.


I have a green heat therapy bear that I bought to give to her while she was alive with the intention that I could sleep with it after she was gone. And I have. It's now a central part of my nightly routine. One of the last things I do before bed is heat up the bear before I carry it back to my bedroom, take some melatonin, and curl up in the darkness under the covers. I hold it tight and let it trick my hormones into believing I'm holding a warm baby instead of just a warm bear. It really works. So much so that the first night I did this I woke up to discover my milk had come in. I've been sleeping well, for the most part, the last four weeks and I'm thankful.

I also have a bracelet from a mother-daughter set. It came with a card that says "My heart will always have enough room for you." Abby was buried wearing hers. Mine is a larger heart with a smaller heart cut out. I've worn mine all day every day and have felt close to her up until this past Monday.


The joy and peace that have been wrapped protectively around me for so many months suddenly lifted this past Monday.


I've been struggling with simultaneously wanting to decorate for Christmas, turn on Christmas music, drink the Christmas drinks from Starbucks...and not. And I couldn't figure out what was going on with me until this past Monday. I realized what happened.


Almost everything looks the same this week as it did one year ago. My jeans fit the same and I've got the same winter clothes hanging in my closet now as I did this time last year. The house is decorated the same. The view out the window is the same. And our situation is the same: desperately wanting a second child and yet despite our best efforts, it's still just the three of us. Just like we were and just like we felt this time last year.


And as this all dawned on me on Monday, I realized the joy and the peace had evaporated and left intense, deep anger.


There's so little evidence to suggest that she was here. She was real. She is real. You'd never know if you met me in the park with Theo today that I spent most of this year in the presence of the most precious baby girl. You'd never know.


Abigail brought the Spring this year and she stayed through the Fall. Now that she's gone it's like she took all of the color out of the world with her. The air is frigid again, the sky is grey again, the trees look dead again, and the darkness is coming earlier and earlier again. Just like last year. We're the infertile couple again. Just like last year. And at least this past Monday, this all meant that I was insanely, intensely angry.


What comforts me this week is that I know Someone else whose anger far exceeds my own. There are only three times in the Gospels that Jesus is described with a Greek word that conveys anger and one of those times is in John 11. In John 11, Jesus is angry at death. At sin. At the brokenness that steals loved ones away too early. At it all. My reaction has been to lash out at Michael and stomp around the house annoyed at how messy it is. Or to look around for someone to blame for the fact that nothing is perfect in my life. Jesus' response was to weep and then to release a sudden burst of resurrection power. A preview of what He can and will do one day.


What comforts me this week is that no matter how much I weep or how angry I get, I am not alone. The same God who wrapped me protectively in joy and peace is the God who weeps with me and who righteously uses His anger to defeat death again and again and again. He defeated death in John 11 temporarily for His friends. He overcame death decisively when He Himself died but then resurrected on Easter Sunday. And He is coming back to resurrect everyone, whole and healed, one day soon. On that day, He has promised that death will finally be destroyed once and for all.


I said this past weekend to a friend that I wasn't looking forward to Abby's service. That I'm not the sort of person who needs these kinds of events. That I'm so incredibly exhausted and didn't want to have another thing to plan.


I told Pastors M & C months ago that I needed a joyful worship celebration for her service. I've been frustrated with so many sad people projecting their sad feelings and sad expectations onto me when what I've really been feeling for most of this year has been unexplainable, wonderful joy. I was worried that I was being insensitive by not considering what other people who will be mourning Abby may need from her service, but I ultimately didn't really care. Because what has gotten me through this year has been worshiping through song and dance. So I told them I want it to be joyful. That I suspected what I would need from her service is to be led into the throne room to rediscover the joy of the Lord.


Now I realize that that instinct was from the Holy Spirit because now the anger and sadness is setting in. Now that it's not all peace and joy all the time, I know that this is even more right than it was before. I do need to rediscover the joy of the Lord. And if this is how you have been feeling about this whole situation then you need this too.


So. You're invited. And you. And you. And you! Don't be offended if someone smiles and someone laughs. Don't be surprised when we get a little loud and a little rowdy. Before this was just supposed to be a celebration of her life - a service of gratitude and love that we got to have her. But now? Now it's that AND more. Because the anger has set in. The anger at death and brokenness and sin. The rage and grief that we live in a stupid world where our babies get sick and children die. BUT.


But the same God who brought her to life is holding her, very much alive still, in His hands. It's not a cliche - it's the truth. And you can choose to sit in the anger and sadness, not knowing who really to direct it at or what to do with it, or you can choose something else. We have options. So I invite you to come worship Him with me. That is the response to my anger and grief that I choose - no longer to lash out at my loved ones and critique every little problem around me but instead to turn to Jesus in my desperation and worship Him once more. And while we worship, yes, I will be mocking death!


Things may look the same today as they did last year. It may seem like death has won again. But the truth is that there is even more life in this world than there was this time last year. This world is so much more than what we can see with our eyes and it all belongs to God. It's not that anger and sadness aren't natural and appropriate feelings. They are. It's just that this is true at the same time. While I cannot see her with my eyes of flesh today, she is still real, she is still alive, and death is NOT the end of her story. Praise God!


"Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in Him...For God did not appoint us to suffer wrath but to receive salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ. He died for us so that, whether we are awake or asleep, we may live together with Him" (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14, 5:9-10).


It's okay to be mad and it's okay to be sad. But I can be both of those and glad. Because of Jesus, I have joy and suffering at the same time. The suffering is dulled by the joy and the joy is intensified by the suffering.


Oh Death, where is your victory?! Where is your sting?!


I invite you. Come mock death, worship Jesus, and celebrate her with me on December 3rd. I'm looking forward to seeing you there. :)

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